


Five ways Chris was never killed by Justin Timberlake

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven)



Category: Popslash
Genre: 5 Things, M/M, five things that never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-17
Updated: 2008-08-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 07:57:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop
Summary: This is my contribution to theSomething Like Augustchallenge for the day: Five ways Chris was never killed by Justin Timberlake.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the [Something Like August](http://joshysleo.livejournal.com/tag/something+like+august+challenge) challenge for the day: Five ways Chris was never killed by Justin Timberlake.

*****

Justin closed his eyes, tightened his arms around Chris, and just _felt_ \- felt the engine rumbling between his legs, Chris, broad and solid in front of him, the helmet-muted sound of the road rushing past, the air stinging his bare hands. Justin smiled wide, and moved his grip so he could work at least one hand inside Chris's jacket, spreading his fingers over Chris's stomach.

Justin's mom hated to see him riding pillion, but Chris was a push over sometimes, caving under Justin's hopeful expression and totally logical arguments about how it had to be safer than Justin getting a bike of his own, when he'd only just got his licence.

Justin's fingers started stroking firm circle over Chris's t-shirt. Riding his own bike along side his boyfriend's would be cool, but not cool like this. Intimate like this.

Chris shrugged, one shoulder coming back to nudge Justin in the chest - stop it. Justin smiled wider and leaned closer, moving his hand cautiously, slowly, up and across, so Chris's nipple slid between two flat fingers, where Justin could squeeze and slide. Chris jerked when Justin scissored his fingers, and Justin bit his lip, felt Chris's reactions setting off sparks in his own groin.

He was leaning forwards, pushing his chest against Chris's back a little, trying to work his other hand inside Chris's leathers, and Chris was trying to twist away, when they hit the patch of loose gravel on the bend in the road, and then there was just noise and impact, and pain.

*****

His boyfriend was such a dork. They were just, like, really big birds.

Still, seeing Chris running around like a hyperactive and glee-filled monkey was rarely bad, even through he was spending an awful lot of time with Lance this trip. Like right now, when Lance was perched uncomfortably on an ostrich that didn't seem at all happy about having a rider, and Chris was hanging off the gate of the pen, encouraging him.

Justin screwed up his face, and told himself not to be a pussy. He couldn't have Chris all to himself all the time, he knew that.

"Hey, Chris!" Justin called. Chris looked away from Lance for a moment, but the sound seemed to startle the unhappy ostrich, which reared back out of the mounting pen, knocking Chris to the ground and catching him on the temple with one enormous toe.

*****

He'd been trying to hook up with Chris forever. Well, it felt like forever, and now that he was totally legal, in all the countries where they could be, and Chris was still playing hard to get, he'd had to resort to extreme measures.

He'd kind of forgotten, though, that Chris was taking some kind of pills right now, so the three large cocktails he'd fed Chris in swift succession hadn't so much made Chris a handsy drunk as an unconscious one, and Justin was starting to panic, because he couldn't wake him up.

*****

"Jesus Christ, Justin!"

Justin startled awake, blinking against the bright light spilling out from Chris's door. The hallway carpet was scratchy under his bare arms. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, just to rest his eyes for a second while he waited to catch Chris on his own.

"God, kid, you have got to stop stalking me like this." Chris hissed, the guilty look he shot towards the rest of the house making it clear that he'd remembered the other guys, and Justin's mom, sleeping down the hall. "What are you doing?"

"I need to talk to you," Justin whispered back, scrambling up to his knees, where he was the right height to rest one hand on Chris's hip. Chris was only wearing boxers and a ratty t-shirt, and his skin felt warm to the touch. Justin took in Chris's pale skin and dark hair, and felt as well as saw when Chris shook his head.

"No, you really don't, Justin. Go to bed, you hear me? Your own bed."

"But, Chris .." Justin started, trying not to let himself sound whiny. He shuffled a little closer, close enough to smell Chris - sleep and sweat and shower gel. Close enough to be really aware that Chris's crotch was _right there_ , right where he could tilt his head some and find it with his lips.

Above him, Chris tipped his head back, scrubbed his hands over his face. "No," he said, and his voice sounded tired. "Just … no. If I let you in here, we're going to end up doing something, and then you know, I'll have to kill myself."

"Oh," Justin breathed, carefully aiming the stream of warm air he was letting out, and Chris jumped, hand closing on Justin's wrist, but not quite pushing him away.

 

*****

Justin is so … he's kissing Chris like Chris is oxygen and food and ecstasy all at once, and Chris - God help him - Chris is kissing back, swinging his tongue across Justin's wrapping his hands around Justin's skinny waist, moaning into Justin's mouth, because he's only human. It's just making out. He can't really scar Justin by making out with him, right? Except Justin's hands are under Chris's t-shirt, grabbing fingers trying to work their way under Chris's waistband, and when Chris breaks the kiss and pulls back, Justin just transfers his efforts to trying to unbutton Chris's jeans.

"Hey, hey - Justin." Chris tries to stop him, grabs one of those bony wrists, and then Justin's looking up at him, all hungry eyes and bruise-red lips. "We should stop," Chris says, weakly.

"No, we shouldn't." Justin is calm, and confident, and certain, and his hand slides down to press over Chris's embarrassingly hard cock. It's hard for Chris to remember to breathe, for all that he was panting just a second again. "We're having sex tonight."

Chris groans. "No, kid, we're not. Not till you're legal."

"It's okay," Justin backs up his assurance with another squeeze, which makes Chris's breath hitch. "I want this. I want you. You're not taking advantage, or anything like that, Chris. You love me, right?"

"Yeah," Chris says, and swallows hard, because that doesn't make things right. "Yeah, Jup, I love ya, but th-"

"And, anyway," Justin interrupts. "My mom says it's okay."

Chris chokes, and the fluttering vein in his temple starts to pound, and - Jesus!


End file.
